


Only You

by consulting_superwholockian



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 09:53:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1600583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consulting_superwholockian/pseuds/consulting_superwholockian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Women and John Watson don't really mix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only You

_Bloody women_ , John thought as he turned the key to open the door to his flat. /Yet another break-up. How many more failed relationships would it take to finally find the right woman?/ He leant against the wall next to the stairwell and held his head in his hands. Who was he kidding? He knew from the start that none of these courtships would work. All they were were a mere distraction from-  
  
No, he couldnt say _his_ name. Not when referring to his feelings.   
  
But God damnit, he couldnt help it.   
  
For the past few months, John had tried to deny his feelings for the sociopath. He thought Sarah could take his mind off of... Sherlock. Then the next girl. Then the next. Then the next, and so on. Why was he, John, attracted to him? Heaven knows. Sherlock was a childish, unmannered, impatient, sarcastic... dickhead. On the other hand, he was incredibly brilliant, stunningly handsome, and quite mysterious. Maybe the latter was all it took.  
  
John let his hands fall to his sides and reluctantly made the short journey upstairs where Sherlock would surely be, judging by the dark violin music that played. He almost wished Sherlock werent there, considering the fact that he was the reason John was upset. The failed relationships were just a reminder of how he couldnt be normal and have a woman, no matter how hard he tried. All because of Sherlock. The only man he had ever fallen for, yet it pained John to know that he couldnt have Sherlock, considering the sociopath had said he was married to his work. John couldnt just blurt out his feelings to his flatmate, no matter how badly he wanted to. Could he?  
  
No, of course not. It was hopeless anyways. Sherlock didnt seem capable of having any type of relationship -gay or straight- with anyone. On top of that, he wouldnt understand. John opened the door that would lead into the living quaters, then slammed it shut. The sad violin music instantly stopped.   
  
"John, you seem upset," called the deep, silky voice, who belonged to no other than Sherlock Holmes himself. He hadnt even bothered to turn around; he just stood there looking out the window, violin still in hand.   
  
"And how would you know? You didnt even bother turning around," John irritatingly retorted as he threw himself on his chair.   
  
This time, Sherlock did turn around, the bow and instrument at his sides. "You know how silly of a question that is. You are asking me, for God's sake. All it was was a simple deduction; you slammed the door behind you; obviously a result of frustration. And now, standing here and looking at you, your eyes seem to have dark circles under them, you're frowning, your elbow is propped up on the arm of the chair, holding your head, and your other hand is wiping your eyes- was, which only means... rejec-"  
  
"God, Sherlock, why do you have to be so blunt about every single subject?!" John yelled. He didnt want Sherlock to go on, afraid that the consulting detective might somehow find out that he was not really upset about his ended courtship, but rather /him/. In a way, he guessed it could be seen as rejection, John knowing what Sherlock's reply would be if he were to spill his secret.   
  
Sherlock paused for a moment. He hadnt meant to make John to more upset than he already was. "...I'm... sorry. Would you like some tea? I was about to get some myself, considering Mrs. Hudson is out and not here to make any." he asked the ex-army doctor.   
  
John looked at the other man, surprised. Sherlock never apoligized, much less offer him tea. "That would be lovely. Thank you," he said, shock evident in his voice. He watched as Sherlock disappeared into the kitchen. Sherlock? Doing things for him? What was going on? John got up, and followed him into the kitchen.   
  
  
  
  
_Why did I apologize and if he wanted tea?_ Sherlock mentally asked himself while preparing the kettle. He had found that in recent weeks that he hadnt really acted like his old, ignorant self. Especially when it came to John. He had tried deducing himself, but he couldnt put his finger on (which was a rare occasion) what it was that made him do these things for his only friend. He had a theory, but he kept denying that it could actually be a possiblity.   
  
The theory- He liked John. He liked John in a "more than friends" way.   
  
Sherlock mentally shook himself for even considering it. Lately, he felt as if he had been deducing John wrong because of the hypothesis, considering that at times it seemed too that the blogger may like him the same way.   
  
No, wrong. John busies himself in women. He was most certainly deducing John the wrong way. Or was he? What if he was just ignoring John? Maybe they could even be a couple, if John or even himself admitted any possible feeli-  
  
 _No, no, no, that isnt a possiblity._ Sherlock scolded himself.   
  
"What isnt a possiblity?" John asked, leaning against one of the kitchen walls.   
  
Sherlock cursed himself under his breath, now aware that he had spoken aloud. "It's nothing, John. Go ahead and sit, tea will be ready in a minute," he muttered, turning up to face his friend, who had strode over and was now next to him. The detective's breath hitched; his friend was probably less than a foot away from his face.   
  
"Are you alright?" John warily questioned, placing a hand on the shoulder of the taller man.  
  
"Just fine, my dear Watson," Sherlock sighed, staring at his flatmate's hand. He turned away, watching the kettle on the stove, though he still felt the army doctor's presence from behind him. That's when he realized something. He saw John's eyes dilate when he was next to him. He had touched him, which was odd, considering it wasnt often that anyone touched Sherlock on purpose. John was lingering behind him. He couldnt take it anymore.  
  
He had to find out whether John felt the same as him.  
  
He turned around, and cupped John's cheeks, pushing him toward the nearest wall. The detective heard his flatmate's breath quicken. This was it.   
  
"S-Sherlock, w-what are you-" John started, but was cut off due to Sherlock's heart-shaped lips forcefully put on his own.  
  
  
  
For a moment, John had no idea what was happening. Sherlock... kissing /him/? He started battling himself in his own mind.   
  
_This is so wrong._  
  
 _But it feels so right._  
  
He felt Sherlock bite his bottom lip, and John couldnt help but open his mouth and gasp. As soon as his lips parted, the detective began to explore the other man's mouth with his own, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. John moaned softly, just as Sherlock had made a primal sound in the back of his throat.   
  
_Screw it. I want this so badly._  
  
The doctor threw his arms around the other man's neck as they fought for dominance. Soon enough, John gave up and Sherlock grinned against his lips. They were both left panting, trying to regain their breath.  
  
"Bloody hell, that was ama-" John started.   
"I knew it!" Sherlock interrupted.   
  
"Wait, knew what?"   
  
"That you felt the same about me."  
  
"Sherlock, I swear if this is another experi- wait, you... you like me... like that?"  
  
"No John, I kissed you because I despise you. Of course I 'like you' like that!"  
  
John stared back at his friend dumbfoundly. He knew he had to confess, and looked down at his feet like a nervous schoolboy. "Sherlock, I've li- fuck it, I've loved you since we first met, but you told me you were married to your work."  
  
Sherlock slowly looked up at John's face, and cupped his cheeks with both of his karge hands. "You are apart of my work, John. I had never felt this way about anyone, but I knew John," he paused to take a short breath. "Only you.. the only one I truly... love. Yes. I love you too, John. That sounds right."  
  
John smiled. He pulled the detective -his detective- to his lips for another passionate snog, forgetting about the kettle on the stove which now emitted a high-pitched noise. This was his dream come true, and he only wanted to get lost in it again.


End file.
